


Believer

by arkhamknights



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Blood, M/M, Mild Smut, Minor Violence, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 03:15:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11750904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arkhamknights/pseuds/arkhamknights
Summary: Grey blue eyes scanned over the crowds, two hearts dropping as the vigilant colour met a darker brown, familiar curves and sharp edges of a known face, a known smile. Smith stared down his old friend, his nails digging into the woven cotton of his guitar strap. He watched as the lean, but still rather short, man's face twisted into a smirk, leaning to his taller, dark haired friend the auburn haired man also knew all too well, and whispering something in his ear.





	Believer

Grey blue eyes scanned over the crowds, two hearts dropping as the vigilant colour met a darker brown, familiar curves and sharp edges of a known face, a known smile. Smith stared down his old friend down, his nails digging into the woven cotton of his guitar strap. He watched as the lean, but still rather short, man's face twisted into a smirk, leaning to his taller, dark haired friend the auburn haired man also knew all too well, and whispering something in his ear. 

Rolling his eyes, Smith scowled mostly at the floor, his grip tightening on the strap and his breathing becoming less settled. Yeah, performing whilst partly drunk wasn't his best idea. Licking his lips nervously, he observed the atmosphere, sweaty and crowded as they danced to the loud music blasting through the speakers. “You alright Smiffy?” He turned on his ankle, looking over his shoulder momentarily at his previous friend once more, before nodding at his shorter co-worker, who smiled at him and patted his shoulder, her half black brown, half red pink hair styled and curled, different to normal. He glanced back again, but this time Kim frowned and followed his gaze, her mouth forming the shape of an ‘o’. “Fuck, is he watching? He brought Sam? Jesus Trottt, Smiff, I’m so sorry,”

The auburn haired man rolled his eyes, forcing a smile and turning the two of them back around when the brunette amongst the people started to move his head to look up at them, again. Though, upon seeing Smith’s short, fiery tempered friend, the brunettes smirk faltered a little, but he continued to pretend to be confident. The auburn haired man narrowed his eyes, quickly taking off his guitar and handing it to Kim when the music switched to the song he was told to listen for. “It’s fine, I’m performing now anyway,”

It was Smith’s turn to smirk as he slid into the small seat just behind the keyboard, adjust the microphone and plug in what he was told to. A few people cheered, and he laughed, looking up through his eyelashes to see the brunette smiling, rather. Biting the inside of his cheek, Smith tapped the microphone, making a few more people cheer and turn towards him. 

“I’m doing one more song tonight, for you lot, so yeah,” Smith watched impatiently, his already high confidence boosting with the cheers that rippled through the crowds. His eyes met his brunette friends again, who raised an eyebrow and swished the whiskey in his glass. Swallowing, Smith pressed the keys and sang words like they were fire, edging on the angrier side of his voice, his eyes flicking to Trott’ every few seconds. 

“I was broken from a young age, taking my soul into the masses, write down my poems for the few, that looked at me took to me, shook to me, feeling me, singing from heart ache from the pain, take up my message from the veins, speaking my lesson from the brain, seeing the beauty through the,” His grin grew and spread across the entirety of his face, watching as people moved and danced to his singing, even Trott looked like he had a genuine smile on his face for a split second. He finished the song in flurry of slow words, each more gentle than the last. 

By the time he finished the song, people were whooping and cheering, returning back to their lifeless dancing when the normal music came back on. He smiled, slinking of the stage and back to where Kim stood, her deep brown eyes studying him as he moved. She smiled, fond and proud, and crossed her arms over her chest. “Langdon changed his mind with that last performance. Does having him here fuel your anger? Anyway, enjoy yourself,” 

Smith grinned, and ran a hand through his hair as he disappeared fully backstage, where there was only a half empty room with a few tattered leather sofas in it. He waved at a few of the sound guys, using the bottom of his shirt to wipe away his sweat and pushed open another door, to a small office like room where the guy who ran the ridiculous gigs was. “Hey Langdon, thanks for that. Hows my stuff getting home?” The man looked up from his phone, his much more unprofessional look than how people talked of him always shocked Smith, with his scruffy beard, hipster hats and sweeping brown hair. 

“It's nothing for that performance. Tom is taking it all home, says he’s too tired to go to the after party at the Lovasz residence,” Langdon raised his eyebrows in mock surprise, placing his expensive looking iPhone on the table and leaning back into his desk chair. It was pretty funny, the sight. Smith nodded, thanking him once more before leaving the office and backstage area, seamlessly slipping into the crowd. 

He pushed his way through the sweaty bodies, somehow finding his way through the known building, finally managing to pull himself onto one of the bar stools, sweaty and exhausted already. He went to lift his hand to gain the bartenders attention, but someone grabbed his forearm and did it for him. He almost rolled his eyes rudely at Trott. 

“Why are you here, miss me in the few hours I haven’t seen you?” He partly sneered, half impressed that his co-worker could still even remember what he typically ordered when the bartender moved to them. Trott grinned devilishly, leaning back against the bar and watching Smith as he sipped the drink skeptically. 

“Couldn’t help myself from seeing you again,” Smith looked up from where he was dancing his fingers over the bright red top of the bar, narrowing his eyes in slight disbelief. He didn't even sense a joking tone or a single frame of hesitation in his co-worker's face, and put the glass down, placing both of his hands on the counter. 

“Trott,” he warned, icy steel blue eyes slowly moving up to stare at the brunette, whose smirk had dropped, replaced by an expression lacking any sort of emotion. The auburn haired man licked his lips, “We stopped that ages ago. I, You… you stopped that,” He gritted his teeth, trying to remain calm. He swore he saw some form of sadness or regret flicker through his old friends steel covers in his eyes.  
“I know. And,” Trott moved closer, the overwhelming smell of his cologne mixed with a little alcohol and cigarette smoke strong. It was intoxicating, making Smith sway a little closer by default, by habit. “There's nothing I regret more,”

Without a second thought, the taller grabbed the brunettes wrist, dragging him through the crowds, bumping into a smaller figure and stopping dead considering it wasn't a shoulder to shoulder collision. He went to mumble an apology, only to lock eyes with Kim, who gave him a somewhat icy glare. “Really?” She looked at Trott, who seemed smaller and less confident, “again?”

Smith narrowed his eyes at her now. The two may not always get along, but overall, the brunette was still somewhat a big part of his life, and not just as a co-founder of their channel. He leant down to her ear, speaking in a harsh tone. “He’s my friend, and you won’t tell a soul about this,” 

Hidden by the dark, both of their eyes shimmered silver, before returning to their natural colour, Smith slipping away from her with Trott in tow, who he could hear chuckling lowly at his little trick. He went to snarl, but instead pushed open the backstage door after putting in the pin. There was no one in the main room, thank god, so he took the brunette up to Langdon’s rented rooms, finding a spare one almost instantly. He grinned, slamming the door behind them and pinning Trott to it.

He leant close, so close that he could smell the sweat clinging to the shorter mans skin, and gently ghosted his lips from his neck, up to the brunettes lips, before feverishly pressing them together. Trott reacted instantly, kissing back as much as he could. Smith gently bit at his lip, exploring every inch of his mouth. 

They pulled apart, gasping and hot. Trott’s eyes were blown wide and dark with lust, and he grinned darkly. Sometimes Smith wondered how he hid this side of him from the camera - from anyone, really. But then he remembered the world wasn't quite what it appeared to be, neither was he. 

He hastily pulled off Trott’s shirt, who returned the favour, before they bodies clashed together again, mouths locking and hands roaming. Smith moaned into the brunettes mouth loudly when his hand brushed across his crotch, almost not noticeable, shifting his hips forward. 

Wrapping his arms around the brunettes hips, he lifted him slightly, Trott catching onto the idea quickly and jumping up, wrapping his legs around the auburn haired man’s sides. Smith laughed, kissing his shoulders, neck and collarbones as he carried the shorter to the bed, almost crushing him as they landed, but bracing himself with his arms, boxing the man in. 

“Kinky,” Trott grinned as he breathed out the word, Smith whining and pressing his lips further into the boy's neck, the juncture between neck and shoulder. He bit down, not too hard to hurt but not entirely gentle, enough to gain an amazingly attractive noise from Trott, who tipped his head back to expose more of his neck. Smith smirked into it, biting and licking in the same place, Trotts hands gripping his back, digging red crescents into it with his nails. “Shit,” The shorter man moaned loudly, arching his back so their fronts pressed together, only gaining more hot breaths. 

Smith could already feel his darker side tapping in, and didn't even feel the need to control it. He knew Trott felt it too. 

Moving his mouth, he bit down on Trott’s shoulder, harder that time, feeling the metallic taste of blood enter his mouth. He wasn't sure what it was, but he felt slightly high. Maybe the shock adrenaline, maybe the blood, maybe the man’s scent. Whatever it was, it made his blood surge and his heart sing. 

One of his hands wandered down the man, undoing his jeans button easily, tugging them down when Trott lifted his hips to help out, finally getting them off and leaving him in only boxers. Smith smirked, licking a small drop of blood from Trott’s shoulder and kissing the gash gently. “I definitely missed this,” He growled lowly into the other man's ear, who moaned splendidly and shivered against him.

“Hey! Excuse me, this is our room?” Smith snarled when another unknown voice, probably one of Langdon's party-goer friends, and pressed Trott further into the mattress, breathing against his smooth skin. “Hey! We can hear you! God- I’m getting Langdon,” Smith pushed himself up, not bothering to put his shirt back on or give Trott time to dress fully. He didn't suspect he would anyway, considering he stood beside Smith, leaning into him as they pulled the door open. 

Behind, was a man around Smiths age and height with a blonde girl clinging to him, both dressed in trashy outfits with bored expressions torn across their faces. Smith smirked, catching his friends attention when he snaked his arm around his bare side, the warm feel of skin on skin not quite as satisfying as it was seconds before. “Can we help you?”

The man narrowed his eyes, mimicking Smith as he moved his arm around his seemingly partner and scowled slightly. The room still smelled thick of sweat and alcohol, mixed with the two young men’s colognes. “Yeah, this is our room. Could you leave? You don't want me to call Langdon do you?” The girl beside the man’s brown eyes widened, and she swayed forwards to Smith a bit, an overwhelming stench of cheap beer washing over them.

“You're the guy who performed!” She squealed excitedly, her partner's arm dropping when she stepped forward a bit. Smith felt Trott move closer to him, and purr a bit when the taller of the two rubbed his thumb against his side. “You’re totally hot,” She flashed pearly white teeth, and flipped her awfully bleached hair to the opposite side, eyeing up Trott, also. “Both of you,”

“Why don't both of you,” Smith drawled darkly, hooking a finger into the waistband of Trott’s boxers and tugging on them slightly, “come inside for a drink. We also payed for this room, maybe we can sort something out,” The girl didn't give her boyfriend any time to speak before pulling him into the room and slamming the door shut behind them.  
Smith felt Trotts sharp breaths on his shoulder as he was pulled aside, the young couple settling on the sofa. “What the fuck is this? What are you doing?” The brunette glared at him, his normally dark brown whiskey eyes taking an even darker turn. Smith smiled, pressing a gentle chaste kiss to his cheek.

“You know what,” Trott watched as his taller friends eyes shimmered silver again, staying the gray colour afterward. The brunette raised his eyebrows, quickly looking at the young couple in the dingy, small room. He licked his lips, tongue like a dart, eyes wandering to the kitchenette and the knife magnet on the wall. 

Smiths grin spread across his face, the taste of blood already on his tongue. “Shall we?”

**Author's Note:**

> All comments and kudos are greatly appreciated! Also : I just finished this but it was originally written before Trott's current hair. Whoops.


End file.
